


Cravings

by LexxxiHighThot



Category: The Magicians (TV), The Magicians - Lev Grossman
Genre: Anal Play, Bondage, Fingering, Foreskin Play, Gay, Ice Cream, Light Bondage, M/M, Magic, Magic Bondage, More Tags Pending, Mpreg, M|M, blowjob, withholding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-05
Updated: 2018-08-05
Packaged: 2019-06-22 02:37:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,658
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15571824
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LexxxiHighThot/pseuds/LexxxiHighThot
Summary: Quentin likes ice cream. Eliot like blow jobs. Quentin doesthingswith his tongue.





	Cravings

**Author's Note:**

> A huge thank you to WildeBones and sullyandlulu for being my betas this fic would have been an absolute swamp fire!  
> 

The suns were low in the skies of fillory and Quentin sat in his office half paying attention to the papers on his desk. He constantly cut his eyes to the ornately carved clock that sat on his bookcase. The minute hand had only moved twice since the last time he’d looked. With an annoyed huff, he turned his attention back to students’ work. Though not a moment later his ears were perked by the familiar ‘clip-clap’ of Eliot's heeled shoe against the hardwood floors of the dean's office. He spun too quickly in his chair. Quentin was entering his second trimester and was much larger than he thought he would be by now, which made getting out of a spinning roller chair (especially a fancy leather one that leaned back) sort of a tall order. He managed to get up by leveraging himself up, stomach first. With a hurried gait assailed Eliot.

"Well-uh,"his unnecessarily drawn out whining only amplified the anticipation and need his body was already screaming.

"Really, is that what I've been reduced to?" Eliot questioned with his hand clutching his breast as if he’d been grievously wounded. "Is this what _we've_ been reduced to?” he repeated. “No longer do I get a kiss or a welcome home cigar. No, I just come here with a paper bag full of frozen dairy?” The melodrama was reaching its climax -- Quentin hoped. “I may as well be a drug dealer," he said with a wide, sweeping gesture of his free hand he indicated his ‘great offense’ to the parallel in which he'd drawn himself.  
"You might as well be," Quentin shrugged, almost managing pragmatism with his good natured mocking. "I'm way too addicted to this stuff," he admitted reaching for the brown bag hanging from Eliot's curled fingers. Before Quentin could claim his prize, Eliot swung the bag out of his grasp and hoisted it above Quentin’s reach. Which seemed to shrink at a rate that was inversely proportional to the size of his baby ‘bump’ (though at this point it was more a small hill rather than a bump).   
"It's not an addiction until you've sucked a dick for it," Eliot mocked. He pulled Quentin as close with his free hand, despite his husband’s ever growing belly.    
Quentin rolled his eyes and tried to twist out of his husband's grasp to, once again, reach for the brown paper bag. "Come on," he whined, "it's gonna melt."  
Elliot shook his head slowly, "Have you no sense of gratitude? I went all the way to earth for this.” He place the ice cream on the far side of the desk behind him. “Surely that earns me a treat as well? Some sort of equivalent exchange."   
"Fine," Quentin sighed with an annoyed tone, but his smirk betrayed his amusement. He placed his hand on Eliot’s chest and with a commanding, yet gentle pressure, he pushed his husband back; already slightly off balance from playing keepaway with the ice cream, Eliot stumbled a few steps before bracing himself against the sturdy oak desk that sat on an ornate rug behind him. Eliot’s eyes sparked with excitement as he recognized the shift in his husband’s attitude and what that meant for the rest of their afternoon. With a few nimble movements of his fingers, Quentin caused the silk cords that tied the window dressings to snake their way across the floor and slip up Eliot’s body to entwine his wrists. His hands were bound in a prayer position; from his wrists, the silken ties reached out and wrapped around his throat, finishing themselves off with a pretty little bow at the back of his neck.  Quentin sank to his knees bringing him eye level with Eliot’s already swelling cock. He surged forward, sealing his mouth on the outline of Eliot’s crotch.

Eliot’s breath became slightly more audible as his husband fondled and licked the outline of his dick with a flat tongue. Quentin somehow managed to smirk around the ever growing bulge that kept his mouth occupied. When he was satisfied (whether with how thoroughly damp Eliot’s pants were or how hard his cock was is anyone’s guess), he kissed his way up to Eliot’s neatly tucked shirt. He tugged the shirt up with his teeth as deft fingers worked to undo Eliot’s pants, silently thanking whatever forces that ensured his husband wore a simple outfit today. Eliot had always had….unique taste, but sometimes his clothing choices weren't just inconvenient, they made a quickie next to impossible. Eliot’s dick shot out of its prison as soon as there was an opening. Precum leaked from his tip and collected at the brim of his foreskin. The sight of Eliot’s glistening cock sparked a new craving in Quentin, though he still kept an eye on the brown paper bag that held the true object of his desire. No tell-tale dark ring of wet had formed, no melting yet. He refocused on the task at hand, or rather at mouth, and ran his tongue from the base of the shaft up to the head. Without breaking eye contact, he snaked his tongue under Eliot’s foreskin to swirl around the head and taste that semi-sweet nectar. 

Eliot swallowed , before taking in a shaky breath; he wasn’t sure if Quentin had gotten drastically better, or if it had really been that long since the last time he’d gotten his cock serviced. He let his head drop back as Quentin took him all the way in, hands working in concert with an accommodating throat and a swirling tongue. The sounds of slurping and heavy breaths through flared nostrils filled Quentin’s office as he worked Eliot’s cock over like he’d never done anything else in his life. When Eliot looked down again, Quentin came off his cock with a loud ‘pop’; his lips and cheeks were flushed and smeared with a mixture of precum and saliva that stray strands of hair stuck as he looked up at his husband. The gloriously debauched look of it all made Eliot want to wrench his pregnant husband off his knees and kiss him. He tried to do exactly that, but was reminded of his bindings; the sudden forward surge of his hands pulled his neck forward creating a sharp, but not a wholly unpleasant, sting. A smug smirk crept across Quentin’s lips. He knew exactly what Eliot had been trying to do. That smile didn’t stay in place long, however, disappearing as he went back to his work with renewed vigor. He peppered kisses down the veiny skin of his husbands cock before taking his jewels into his mouth. Quentin’s tongue danced along Eliot’s balls, rolling them over each other in his mouth. With his hand, he stroked lightly, teasing Eliot’s cock.

Small, broken whines escaped Eliot’s throat. He struggled lightly against his bindings desperate to tangle his fingers in Quentin’s hair, to pet and prod him further.  Quentin obviously noticed this and it only encouraged him further; he let his husband’s sack fall from his mouth before he spun Eliot around by his hips. Eliot fell forward, his forearms supporting his weight against the heavy oak desk, the chord that bound his wrists to his throat slackened as he head came to rest on his hands. Before he could object to the loss of Quentin’s mouth, his tongue began lapping at Eliot’s hole while one hand worked his shaft and the other applied the most exquisite pressure on his balls. At this point, Eliot dug his nails into the soft flesh of his palms trying his damndest to stave off his orgasm. He wanted to make this last, to draw it out as much as possible. Quentin, however, was having none that. After all he couldn’t have his ice cream melting. He spun his curly haired dandy once more before hefting him onto the desk. He pinned Eliot atop the desk, legs trapped by the pants that encircled his ankles . His head bobbed and swerved,his tongue swirled around the glans and shaft. “Qu-Quentin, please I-,” the words came as a hoarse whisper, a whisper left unheeded. Quentin only continued his ministrations, adding two, spit slick fingers massaging at the other man’s entrance until they slid in, evoking a choked inhale from their recipient . 

Eliot felt the warm tension of orgasm coiling in his gut as Quentin finger fucked him. Quentin rolled his tongue into a taco underneath Eliot’s foreskin and surrounded his tip. This was clearly something he’d learned from Margo -- obviously trying to suck out his soul. He wanted to cry out, to tell Quentin to wait, or slow down, but all he could manage was a feeble whine of his husband’s name as his head fell back. Quentin smirked, tightening the seal around his favorite cock as the gradual crescendo of moans told him orgasam was imminent. He sunk down to the base, taking his husband all the way to the back of his throat and making a few more languid circles around Eliot’s prostate with his fingers before that sweet and salty spunk spilled down his throat. He slid to the tip of Eliot’s cock milking it with a few more slow pulls. He lifted off Eliot’s cock and crawled up his body sealing their mouths together. The taste of his cum still hot on his husband’s tongue was nearly dizzying. That was the perfect distraction for Quentin to grab the small brown bag containing his prize. 

Quentin plucked the bag from the desk and practically skipped to the door, “Um, aren’t you forgetting something dear?” Eliot called after him. Quentin looked at the ice cream, his baby bump, and the back to his husband still bound and splayed out on the desk.

“No I don’t believe so,” he replied with his swollen, pink lips before closing the door behind him with the most dubious, shit eating grin Eliot had ever seen him wear.

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! If you've made it this far please tell me what you thought because I'm gonna periodically (re:obsessively) check this over the course of the next few days and would love to be able to interact. This is a sort of teaser for a larger series I'm writing. So I hope you guys want more....cause you're getting it.


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